


Fremdschämen

by orphan_account



Category: Dark (Netflix)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Mentions of Underage, some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:12:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13249905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In two parts.Noah abandons his quest to preserve the timeline, to murder the boys in the book, and chooses to stay in 1986 with Helge.He makes an enormous error of judgement.





	Fremdschämen

 

 

 

It happened just inside the mouth of the cave. Noah knew in an instant. In that way, he had always been intuitive. Unlike all the others.

He didn't even need an explanation.

"If you go now you won't come back." said his older self, without providing it.

Beast gleaning beast.

And maybe Noah was like the others in one respect - he thought he knew best.

He found the statement from his older self did need explanation.

"And why would that be a bad thing?" he asks, "You're suggesting I abandon the Light."

Everyone - every _one_ \- has abandoned the way. For lost loved ones, for revenge, for their own selfish desires. Noah is the last one left to truly uphold it all. Without him, it would undoubtedly fall apart.

It's nearly unthinkable that he would suggest it. And yet - Noah feels a reluctance to pull onward.

"Helge."

It's said so simply, and his future self has abandoned all decorum - is trembling, eyes wet with unshed tears. He's an old man, smaller and spindly, weak.

The display of emotion is disturbing - vulgar.

"Why should I care about Helge?"

"If you go now you won't see him again."

"2019." Noah refutes.

Noah will see him, it doesn't matter Helge's age.

"He dies in 1986." older Noah refutes.

A chill goes down his spine.

"He came to stop me." It's said more as an errant thought than as a response.

"He did." His older self confirms.

If possible, it's even more unthinkable than the idea he might abandon his plans. Helge is _his_. Always.

Past, Present and Future.

It's maybe that thought that propels him backwards before he truly thinks of the consequences of his actions.

For as cool as he looks on the outside his heart is beating rabbit fast.

"Make him." his future self says, "Make him love you."

 

 

 

He spills out of the mouth of the cave into the dark forest. When he reaches his destination the light of Helge's tiny cabin flickers briefly before stopping.

Noah is trapped in 1986, most probably.

Helge will be startled to see him so soon, most definitely.

It won't be the only surprise Helge experiences tonight.

Helge's eyes widen when he opens the door - and Noah loves the almond shape of them, their soft quiet forest colors.

Helge smiles faintly, even though Noah is unexpected, and his cheeks heat. The boys weigh on him, Noah knows.

He's in his pajamas. A worn, flannel set of pants with a button up shirt.

Noah has never seen the man in any state of undress. Most often Helge is layered and tidy - or tries to be. His hair, with its untameable licks, and his scar patched face often ruin the effect. Endearingly so.

Noah notices that Helge's shirt isn't even buttoned all the way.

He stares, without the intention of doing so, and Helge notices, flattens his hands to his collar bone to cover it up.

"I'll get changed." Helge says.

Noah crosses the room and stops him with a hand on his wrist.

"Helge." He says.

And Helge waits on him.

He kisses him then, hungry, all tongue and teeth. Nothing about it is controlled, it's not like how he usually is at all.

He devours the small noises that come out of Helge's mouth.

Helge is inexperienced, that much is clear. Has always been clear.

Noah pulls back and runs his hands over Helge's stiff shoulders.

Helge looks wholly blindsided.

Noah coaxes him back with a gentle hand to his face.

"The boys." Helge says.

And on anyone else it would sound sour but Helge can only sound sweet.

It rankles Noah that Helge is refusing on those grounds. Has brought it forth as a point to separate them.

And Noah is stuck in this time. He has failed his duties to the Light. It may only be another fifteen years before everyone burns. And Helge, before him - offering nothing, by all means shouldn't be worth it.

For a second, Noah sees red.

Helge is frozen by Noah's anger, seems almost afraid to move.

Noah's stalwart charm and reassurance is back in an instant.

_Make him love you._

"We're finished." Noah says slow, stern, and measured, "No more boys."

Helge trembles in relief, sags so suddenly that Noah puts a hand out to steady him.

He maneuvers him into the bedroom then.

The same bedroom Helge has always offered him, that he'd always refused.

He hasn't been in it before.

It's like a child's room. Sparse, a few little acorn monstrosities trying to pass for toys on a shelf and a baby blue blanket on the bed. It's a twin bed, a little small, with a single pillow.

Noah is taken aback, although he shouldn't be, at the little room's childlike innocence. There's even a dresser in the corner with a bible on it.

They stand before the bed together.

"uh...um..." Helge tries awkwardly and wrings his hands.

His pants come off in one swift downward motion of Noah's wrist. Immediately Helge pulls down the front of his pajama shirt with his hands to cover himself, presses his thighs together.

He leans forward as he does it, exposes himself at the back, and Noah can't stop the slow thrum of arousal building in him.

Hadn't they always been heading towards this?

He wishes there were mirrors - that he could see Helge from every angle.

Helge is only stealing glances at him, something wary and embarrassed behind his eyes.

Noah presses him down to the bed by his shoulders so that Helge is sitting on it. Gently lays him back.

Helge closes his eyes and swallows thickly.

His white knuckled grip on the ends of his shirt persists. As does the restless, writhing press of his thighs.

"Open." Noah says lowly, and pries just a little.

Helge pants but doesn't obey. Noah isn't sure he heard. His head is tipped back and his hips shift.

Noah's mouth goes dry.

Noah has a tube of chapstick, and that will have to do. It's from 1953, petroleum based and scentless.

He gets it out and smears it across his fingertips.

Helge shudders at the first gentle prod and lets out a small noise. He's terribly tense, but that isn't surprising given his inexperience. Noah can only feel what he's doing, can't really see at the angle he's at and Helge's relentless downward pull of his shirt. Even the buttons are straining.

Noah pushes a finger all the way inside and Helge squirms on it like he's trying to get comfortable. His fists twist in the fabric of his shirt.

It's only half a minute before Helge's erection is noticeably straining against his shirt and leaving a small patch of wet. Still, he doesn't open his eyes, doesn't move, but he is saying something. Small, and under his breath. When Noah leans over him to hear he can see tears clumping in Helge's eyelashes.

"One two three." Helge repeats, over and over, nearly inaudibly.

"Helge." Noah demands, and after a reluctant moment Helge opens his eyes, shiny with unshed tears.

Most virgins cry.

"Noah." Helge gasps.

The sound of his name, breathlessly gasped like Helge just can't help himself, gets him.

He presses a second fingertip against Helge's entrance just as Helge gasps out, "Don't." before his hips promptly stutter downwards and take the thicker width of Noah's fingers into himself.

Noah rubs gently at Helge's insides, scissoring a little, while tears lazily make their way down the man's face over his lost innocence.

"Don't." Helge says again, in a high pitched whine, tossing his head to the side and arching.

Noah backs away. Helge's legs tremble at the loss and Helge lifts his head up lazily to watch him.

He undoes his belt.

Helge's eyes are drawn to the movement.

Noah undresses only enough to expose his member.

Helge stares at it. Noah lets him. Helge stares so much Noah starts to feel embarrassed for him.

Noah pats the inside of a trembling knee.

Helge's legs spill open weakly, barely enough to admit Noah's trim hips, before they clamp down again with insistent force.

Helge's only got to cross his legs behind Noah to be completely wrapped around him, is the thought that runs through Noah's head.

Helge's fisted grip on his shirt remains. Noah gently pries loose the fingers, brings the fists up to lay a kiss on them before pressing them down to the bed. To the baby blue blanket.

Noah wants to flip his shirt up and _see_. Wants to open it and touch what's underneath. Helge looks too fragile for that though. He's watching Noah finally, to see what he will do.

Noah lines himself up. Reaches under Helge's shirt to grip his erection with his other hand. He presses in slow because Helge is not as prepared as he would like.

He only gets it half way in when Helge shudders, clenches around him tight, and comes over Noah's fist onto the inside of his shirt.

Helge goes limp afterward, breath coming in harsh pants. He looks utterly exhausted and Noah slides the rest of the way in with no resistance.

" _Noah_ " Helge says with something new in his voice, something that Noah likes.

Helge makes Noah feel powerful.

Like it doesn't matter that he's just damned the world.

Noah knows how to fuck. His thrusts are steady and measured, a long pause when he's buried to the hilt that gets shorter and shorter as the rhythm builds.

Helge is flushed all over, his cheeks are especially rosy. The tear tracks on his face are tacky, almost dry. He's getting hard again and he squirms on Noah trying to get closer and upsetting the rhythm.

Noah holds his hips down and that's when Helge starts moaning, open mouthed, looking shocked at himself. But then he looks humiliated, his face scrunches like he's about to cry again so Noah leans forward and kisses him.

Helge fists Noah's shirt like a life line so he can't pull away.

He ends up grinding into the man in short deep thrusts and coming that way. He continues even as he begins to soften. Helge is still hard.

"Tell me Helge, has anyone ever touched you like this?" Noah asks possessively. He knows no one has.

But then Helge looks at him dreamily and responds in a far away voice.

"Bernd would make me kiss him. He tried to do this but I was too small then. It wouldn't fit."

The effect the words have on him are immediate.

Helge hardly notices when he pulls away. The man curls into himself, eyes unfocused. He's no longer thinking about his modesty, laying exposed on the bed - boneless and unseeing.

He finally reaches for Noah when he's at the door.

"D-Don't go..." Helge frowns before his expression fades into something truly distressed. "Noah."

"I have to go." Noah says and Helge sits up, alarmed.

He doesn't follow him out though, only watches him go - but Noah can hear the sobs as he leaves out the front door.

He doesn't even have time to explain. There may be a chance he can make it to 1953. It's an infinitesimally small chance but he has to take it.

_Make him love you._

He has _made_ Helge, Noah thinks bitterly, that is certain.

But not love.

Never love.

 

 

 

Noah doesn't make it back to 1953. He waits all night. 

All night he thinks of what solution would be best. He settles on murdering Bernd Doppler and warning little Helge off of Noah in the future.

He would murder Ulrich Nielsen too - since he's now gone rogue - but the time loop has already passed that section.

He thinks of little Helge. The small, dark haired, weary eyed child who had turned up in the room. He should have known then - when little Helge had more or less shrugged off being nearly beaten to death.

The way his Helge had stared at himself grief stricken, clearly overwhelmed, and asked Noah to take care of it. To escort him back to 1953.

The boy had smelled like piss. When Noah had mentioned a bath he'd gotten offended - had accidentally revealed what had happened. Noah regrets not asking the boys' names.

Regrets not bringing any of it up with Helge.

Regrets not preventing it from happening in the first place. Simply to preserve the timeline.

He feels foolish.

Feels sick.

Eventually when it's nearing the evening on the day after he journeys back.

He can't go to 1953, can't _fix_ things.

But he can hold Helge, give him all of his previously metered out comfort meant to control him.

Noah had thought the man weak. Had thought Helge overly sensitive and self-pitying. Inexperienced and unwanted. Lacking for affection and touch starved. Stupid.

Noah is the most recent in a long line of men who have taken _advantage_. Helge isn't well. It's the first time Noah has recognized the fact. Thirty three years onward - and Noah has barely spared Helge's interim years more than a passing curiosity - and Helge isn't okay.

After the boys, Noah supposes neither of them could be the same. Knows he's grown callous - but he knows these boys - some of them. Knows their crimes personally, intimately. Helge is different, softer. Less able to withstand. Which is how Noah got to him in the first place.

He's never wanted him more than he has now, when he's furthest out of reach.

He isn't sure Helge can forgive him. Surely Helge shouldn't.

At the very least it's 1986, not 2019.

He can still kill Bernd Doppler.

 

 

 

The door to the cabin opens effortlessly with a push, it's not even closed properly.

For a second Noah's heart catches in his throat.

Helge is in the middle of the floor, figurines all around him like he's been playing with them. He doesn't even have the pants on. He only has the shirt, crusted with his own spend, his knees tucked up inside.

His heads resting on his knees. His eyes are shut, but they're puffy and swollen red just like his nose.

He sniffles weakly and whimpers in his sleep.

It occurs to Noah the figurines are there because Helge was trying to comfort himself.

He has to grind his teeth as tears prick behind his eyes.

Noah hasn't cried in over twenty years.

The feeling recedes.

He clears a small path, tries not to break any, to get to Helge. He gently shakes him awake.

Helge blinks up at him blurrily.

"You came back." Helge says, with tears in his voice.

It's the wrong tone though. Something relieved and awed.

Helge tentatively reaches a hand out to touch him, but stops short.

" _Helge_." Noah says tightly.

Their positions reverse, Noah is reaching forward only to stop short. Helge all but leaps into his arms.

He sobs there for awhile, and Noah pets his hair.

Eventually he leverages them into bed, under the covers and Helge can't stop touching him, tucks against him.

Noah is aware it's undeserved.

"No more boys." Helge says, and smiles sadly.

"No more." Noah impresses once again.

 

 

 

Helge is shy around him in the morning. If it were painful avoidance Noah could understand but Helge is blushing, coyly meeting his gaze before looking away only to look back a second later.

It's wrong.

A reaction, that will in time be corrected once Helge gets a little healthier, a little more stable. Gets himself away from people who are constantly taking advantage of him.

Bernd is still alive after all. Helge by all means should be a millionaire. Instead he squats in a little cabin by the woods and does his laundry by hand.

It hurts to see Helge regard him once he knows what he's done.

Helge is pleased.

Noah tries to apologize.

"I raped you." he says, because it's what he's done.

Helge frowns uncomfortably but shrugs like it doesn't matter.

He continues to make coffee. Heating up a kettle and scraping the last of the grounds out into it.

"Helge." He eventually says when nothing is forthcoming, "I would like you to acknowledge me."

Helge should never have to acknowledge Noah again - should never have had to. But it's too late for that now.

"That's - not the part that bothers me." Helge says, tense and not meeting his eyes, "it's always been the boys."

Noah's justification is on the tip of his tongue. But Helge already knows it.

Helge does meet his gaze suddenly. Helge's own eyes drooping in sadness.

"It means we're all gonna die right?"

"Most probably." Noah grates out.

"I think...I think it's the right thing to do." Helge says - all sweetness, all comfort. "Even if it's just one boy who gets to live his life. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be."

"If it's a comfort. Yasin and Eric will never exist." Noah wants to take some of the load off the very dear to him, rounded shoulders he's placed it on.

Helge just looks sadder. Coughs to try and cover up the small sob that's hiccuped out.

He pours the coffee and smiles when he serves it.

Noah tries to say sorry - for all it will do nothing - but Helge cuts him off. Talks over him in a way he's never done before. Nervous and jittery.

He's out of milk and sugar and pretty much everything else.

Noah says nothing else for the rest of the morning.

 

 

 

It doesn't make sense - that Helge is so poor. He's always working.

Noah has money for 1986, he has packs out there in the woods - documents and anything he could possibly need. He hadn't trusted Helge with it. He retrieves it that night.

Helge looks anxious when he leaves the cabin, although he tells him he'll be back in a few hours, and relieved when he returns.

Noah lays brick after brick of bills onto the table, Helge watches with a growing uneasiness.

"You could do anything with this money Helge, go anywhere you like."

"Don't do this." Helge says, and his face turns red in what's clearly an effort not to cry, "Don't be like Bernd."

The words are a shock to his system, freeze him prematurely. Slowly, he shoves the wads of cash back into their bag.

"That's better." Helge says weakly.

Noah has no defense for his actions.

Helge still lets him sleep beside him.

 

 

 

The next day he goes out and buys groceries. Helge doesn't have a fridge so Noah purchases one of those too and has it delivered.

Helge goes to work.

Noah is getting sick of the look of relief on Helge's face. If anything Helge should only be relieved if he's gone.

"Does this mean you're staying in 1986?" Helge inquires meekly.

Noah nods.

"I will never leave you again, unless you send me away." Until you send me away, is what Noah should actually be saying.

Surely Helge should send him away.

He's been thinking and in fifteen years or so he can kill his babyself. Save Helge the pain.

Helge nods, smiles a genuine smile at him.

"We could get a place in town." Noah says.

"I-it is quite expensive. To live here." Helge agrees.

"This is your cabin." Noah immediately shoots back, questioning, and Helge flinches.

"W-well it's Bernd's." Helge says, cowed and ashamed.

His face turns white. Noah feels it like a shard to the heart.

"Why would you choose to live here?" Noah doesn't mean it like it sounds - stern and condemning - but that's how it comes out.

So many things had happened to Helge at the cabin. But not Bernd and maybe that's the point.

"I...I met you here." Helge says quietly, blinking worriedly.

Noah has only felt this powerless a handful of times.

"Ill never hurt you again Helge." Noah says, so that Helge knows.

"You didn't hurt me." Helge frowns in confusion.

"I'll never touch you again." Noah clarifies.

Helge doesn't look any happier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
